CHAPTER TWENTY NINE.
TRAVELLING ON SNOW-SHOES.
Once their resolution was taken, they lost but little time in makingpreparations to carry it out. Most of the articles required for such ajourney were already in their hands. They had the proper dresses--snow-shoes, skin-blankets, and gloves. They had prepared for themselvessets of "snow spectacles." These were made out of red cedar-wood. Eachpair consisted of two small thin pieces, that covered the eyes, joinedtogether and fastened on by thongs of buckskin. In each piece an oblongslit served for the eye-hole, through which the eye looked without beingdazzled by the snow. Without this, or some like contrivance, travellingin the Arctic regions is painful to the eyes, and the traveller oftenloses his sight. Indeed, one of the most common infirmities of both theIndians and Esquimaux of these parts is blindness or soreness of theeyes, caused by the reflexion of the sunbeams from the crystals of thefrozen snow. Norman was aware of this, and had made the spectacles toguard against this peril. Out of their spare skins they had made asmall tent. This was to be carried along by Marengo in a light sledge,which they had long since constructed, and taught the dog to draw.Nothing else remained but to pack their provisions in the smallest bulkpossible, and this was done, according to the custom of the country, bymaking "pemmican." The dry meat was first pounded until it became apowder; it was then put into small skin bags, made for the purpose, andthe hot melted fat was poured in and well mixed with it. This soonfroze hard, and the mixture--that resembled "potted meat,"--was nowready for use, and would keep for an indefinite time without the leastdanger of spoiling. Buffalo-beef, moose-meat, or venison of any sort,thus prepared, is called "_pemmican_," and is more portable in thisshape than any other. Besides no further cooking is required--animportant consideration upon those vast prairie deserts, where firewoodis seldom to be procured without the trouble of carrying it a greatdistance.
Norman, who was the maker of the pemmican, had produced a superiorarticle upon this occasion. Besides the pounded meat and fat, he hadmixed another ingredient with it, which rendered it a most deliciousfood. This third ingredient was a small purple-coloured berry--of whichwe have already spoken--not unlike the whortleberry, but sweeter and ofa higher flavour. It grows through most of the Northern regions ofAmerica; and in some places, as upon the Red River and the Elk, thebushes that produce it are seen in great plenty. When in flower, theyappear almost white, so thickly are they covered with blossoms. Theleaves are small, and generally of an oval shape; but there are severalvarieties of the bush, some of them having the dimensions and form oftrees, of twenty-five feet in height. The berries have receiveddifferent names in different parts of America. They are known as"shadberries", "June-berries", "service-berries," and by the Canadianvoyageurs they are called "le poire." Even the botanists have giventhem a great variety of names, as _pyrus, mespilus, aronia, crataegus_,and _amelanchier_. No matter which may be the best name, it is enoughto know that these little berries are delicious to eat when fresh, andwhen dried, after the manner of currants, are excellent to mix inpuddings, as well as in pemmican.
Previous to the setting in of winter, our voyageurs had collected alarge bagful upon the banks of the Elk, which they had dried and storedaway--expecting to stand in need of them for this very purpose. Theynow came into use, and enabled Norman to make his pemmican of the verychoicest quality. Five bags of it were put up, each weighing overthirty pounds. One of these was to be drawn upon the sledge, along withthe tent, the axe, and a few other articles. The rest were to becarried by the voyageurs themselves--each shouldering one, which, alongwith their guns and accoutrements, would be load enough.
These arrangements being at length complete, the party bid adieu totheir log-hut--gave a parting look to their little canoe, which stillrested by the door--and then, shouldering their guns and bags ofpemmican, set out over the frozen surface of the snow.
Of course before starting they had decided upon the route they were totake. This decision, however, had not been arrived at until after muchdiscussion. Lucien advised that they should follow the shore of thelake until they should reach the Mackenzie River--which of course wasnow frozen up. Its channel, he argued, would then guide them; and, incase their provisions should run short, they would be more likely tofind game upon its banks than elsewhere, as these were wooded almost tothe sea--in consequence of its head-waters rising in southern latitudes,and carrying with them a warmer climate.
There was plausibility in Lucien's argument, combined with muchprudence. Norman, however, advised a contrary course. He said thatthey would have to make a considerable journey westward before reachingthe place where the Mackenzie River flows out of the lake; and,moreover, he knew that the river itself was very crooked--in some placeswinding about in great curves, whose ends come near meeting each other.Should they keep the course of the river, Norman believed it wouldalmost double their journey. A much shorter route, he said, would beobtained by striking across the country in a north-westerly direction,so as to reach the Mackenzie near where another great stream--the Riverof the Mountains--empties into it from the west. This would certainlybe a more direct route, and they would avoid the windings of the riverchannel.
Norman's reasoning prevailed. Basil and Francois readily agreed to hisplan, and Lucien at length also gave his assent, but with somereluctance. Norman knew nothing whatever of the route he was advisingthem to take. His former journeys up and down the Mackenzie had beenmade in summer, and of course he had travelled by canoe, in company withthe traders and voyageurs. He only knew that to strike across thecountry would be the shorter way. But "the shortest way is not alwaysthe nearest," says the proverb; and although Lucien remembered thisprudent maxim, the others did not give it a thought. Before the end oftheir journey they received a practical lesson of its wisdom--a lessonthey were not likely to forget. But they knew not what was before them,and they started off in high spirits.
Their first three or four days' journeys were without any event worthbeing chronicled. They travelled full twenty miles each day. TheSoutherners had become quite skilful in the management of theirsnow-shoes, and they skimmed along upon the icy crust at the rate ofthree or four miles an hour. Marengo and his sledge gave them verylittle trouble. There was full sixty pounds weight upon it; but to thehuge dog this was a mere bagatelle, and he pulled it after him withoutany great strain. His harness was neatly made of moose-skin, andconsisted of a collar with a back strap and traces--the traces meetingbehind, where they were attached to the head of the sledge. Nohead-gear was necessary, as Marengo needed not to be either led ordriven. The sledge consisted of two or three light planks of smoothwood, laid alongside each other, and held together by transverse bands.In front it turned up with a circular sweep, so as not to "plough" thesnow; and at the top of this curved part the traces were adjusted. Theload was, of course, carefully packed and tied, so that the overturningof the vehicle did no damage whatever, and it could be easily rightedagain. Marengo required no one to guide him, but followed quietly inthe tracks of the snow-shoes, and thus avoided the trees, rocks, andother inequalities. If a rabbit or other creature started up, Marengoknew better than to go galloping after it; he felt that he had a moreimportant duty to perform than to throw away his time uponrabbit-hunting. Each night a spot was chosen for the camp by the sideof some lake or stream, where wood could be obtained for their fire.Water was got by breaking a hole in the ice, and the little tent wasalways set up in a sheltered situation.
Upon the fifth day after leaving the log-hut the woods began to growthinner and more straggling; and towards night of the same day theyfound themselves travelling through a country, where the timber onlygrew here and there in small clumps, and the individual trees were smalland stunted. Next day still less timber was seen upon their route; andwhen camping-time came, they were obliged to halt at a spot wherenothing but willows could be procured for their fire. They had, infact, arrived upon the edge of that vast wilderness, the Barren Grounds,whi
ch stretches in all its wild desolation along the Northern half ofthe American continent, (from the Great Slave Lake even to the shores ofthe Arctic Sea on the north, and to those of Hudson's Bay on the east).This territory bears an appropriate name, for, perhaps, upon the wholesurface of the earth there is no tract more barren or desolate--not eventhe Sahara of Africa. Both are deserts of immense extent, equallydifficult to cross, and equally dangerous to the traveller. On both thetraveller often perishes, but from different causes. On the Sahara itis _thirst_ that kills; upon the Barren Grounds _hunger_ is morefrequently the destroyer. In the latter there is but little to befeared on the score of water. That exists in great plenty; or where itis not found, snow supplies its place. But there is water everywhere.Hill succeeds hill, bleak, rocky, and bare. Everywhere granite, gneiss,or other primitive rocks, show themselves. No vegetation covers thesteep declivities of the hills, except the moss and lichen upon therocks, a few willows upon the banks of streams, the dwarf birch-tree(_Betula nana_), or the scrub-pines, rising only to the height of a fewinches, and often straggling over the earth like vines. Every hill hasits valley, and every valley its lake--dark, and deep, and silent--inwinter scarce to be distinguished under the snow-covered ice. Theprospect in every direction exhibits a surface of rocks, or bleak hills,half covered with snow. The traveller looks around and sees no life.He listens and hears no sound. The world appears dead and wrapped inits cold winding-sheet!
Amidst just such scenes did our voyageurs find themselves on the seventhday after parting from the lake. They had heard of the BarrenGrounds,--had heard many fearful stories of the sufferings of travellerswho had attempted to cross them; but the description had fallen farshort of the actual reality. None of them could believe in thedifficulties to be encountered, and the desolateness of the scene theywere to witness, until now that they found themselves in its midst; and,as they proceeded on their journey, getting farther and farther from thewooded region, their apprehensions, already aroused by the wild aspectof the country, grew stronger and stronger. They began to entertainserious fears, for they knew not how far the barren tract extended alongtheir route. On calculation they found they had provisions enough tolast them for a month. That in some measure restored their confidence;but even then, they could not help giving way to serious reflections.Should they get lost or retarded in their course by mountains, or otherobstacles, it might take them longer than a month to reach some placewhere game was to be met with. Each day, as they advanced, they foundthe country more hilly and difficult. Precipices often bounded thevalleys, lying directly across their track; and as these could not bescaled, it was necessary to make long _detours_ to pass them, so thatsome days they actually advanced less than five miles upon theirjourney.
Notwithstanding these impediments, they might still have got over theBarren Grounds without further suffering than the fatigue and necessaryexposure to cold; but at this time an incident occurred, that not onlyfrustrated all their calculations, but placed them in imminent danger ofperishing.